


Only Real Friends Come Back....Right?

by TheLaughingToxicologist



Category: My Chemical Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLaughingToxicologist/pseuds/TheLaughingToxicologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis Anthony Iero<br/>-Works at a record label<br/>-Lives alone in an apartment<br/>-Still a little confused on what happened in his past</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ummm, hi?  
> The editing in this chapter isn't very good but it'll get better (I promise)  
> I was able to write this in class but I really wanted to continue it and post it online so i could have more creative power with the story.  
> Feedback is cool?  
> Spacing might be kinda screwed up, sorry this was uploaded from a mobile device.  
> @LaughingCyanide if you want to talk to someone on Twitter who never tweets about herself or stops talking about bands.  
> Um, sorry this is long, here's a cookie.

When I saw they had come back, I could have cried. But instead I fainted like the true man I am. Having a number of piercing and tattoos that usually make a person look very tough seem to be extremely ineffective when the person is unconscious.  
   
To be fair, opening up the door to your apartment after a long day of work and seeing your best friends inside who’ve been gone for over 5 years is pretty shocking.  
   
Yet then again, maybe I need some new best friends because instead of waking up in my bed with my concerned companions waiting at my bedside, I was on the ground leaning on my doorframe.  
   
I groaned and tried to do a scan of the room before going dizzy and feeling a wave of nausea.  
"Dude...you need an icepack." Ray said, leaning in to inspect any damage mad to my head. I stared back at him, cross eyed and confused on why I hadn't seen the man with a gigantic golden afro crouching in front of me.  
   
"I'll get you one!" a voice in the kitchen said. The speaker was then on the ground, hands sprawled out on the ground and head to the side with eyes closed.  "I'm...I’m so sorry Frankie… opening the door....it's too much...I guess we’re like twins now…”  
   
Ray snickered as I scowled and getting to my feet despite a pounding headache.

 "You're an asshole, Bryar." I muttered, making my way to the freezer and attempting to kick the burly man who was on my small kitchen floor. 

Although he was well built, the blond was surprisingly agile as he crawled away to evade my attack while saying “At least I don’t faint when opening doors, Iero.”

“I dunno, you seemed to act that out a little too well to be faking, Bob.” Ray called out. 

“No, no, no, Toro those were my ‘spidey senses’.”  
"Is Bob pretending to be Spiderman again?" Mikey said.  
   
I turned to my mini breakfast bar to see the two Way brothers sitting there, Mikey looking confused as hell while Gerard seemed amused and had started humming the Spiderman theme song.  
   
"Yeah, and he's just as unsuccessful as he was 20 years ago." I snorted, opening the freezer and searching for icepacks.  
   
"It was every kid’s dream to be Spiderman when he was 5 years old, Iero, you tried it too." Bob said, back on his feet to defend himself.  
   
"Yeah, but that 5 year old didn't have a lip piercing that could get caught on the carpet." Ray chimed in.

  
 “Or a full on beard.” Mikey mumbled.

"Heh, Mikey came pretty close to that. I remember Cheerio lip rings being pretty popular back in his kindergarten days-" Gerard started deviously, wiggling his eyebrows at the scrawny kid next to him.  
   
"Gerard, shut up" his brother shrieked. "I mean, come on, as a kid _you_ tried to act out Audrey Hepb-"

_He did a pretty damn good job though_ I thought to myself, zeroing on a tub of ice cream. _Wait, no, icepacks Frank, focus._ __  
  
Bob started to laugh hysterically, obviously imagining the two in those situations. “Oh my god, before I die, you guys need to tell me those stories.”  
   
"I’ll fill you in later with a play by play, Chicago boy. I was an eye-witness on both accounts" Ray commented, somehow making his cringe heard in his voice.

I never knew that was humanly possible until now. 

Settling for a bag of peas that I had no idea I owned nor where they came from, I closed the door and turned around to face the bickering crowd.  
   
"Eww, I will not be eating those." Mikey said, scrunching up his nose.  
   
"Calm down, Mikey. Just eat the ones that aren't touching his head. Wait, what did you say?" Gerard spoke feigning surprise. " _None of them are touching his head because of the plastic barrier?!_  I guess that makes some sense! Come on Mikey, they're peas."  
  
"Speaking of peas, your apartment is pretty fitting to you. I mean, midget sized for a midget, it makes a lot of sense." Bob said, looking around the cramped room.

_And heeeeere we go._

  
"I think the politically correct term is  _munchkin_ , Bob. Let's not disrespect the man in his own home." Mikey corrected.  
   
I sighed, "Really gu-"  
  
Ray cut me off, "No Frank, it’s okay, I got this.”  
It was an odd moment, I stared at Ray’s serious face actually wondering if I would be defended for the first time ever in a debate about my height.

“Alright, Ray. Continue.” I said carefully, curious about what he’d say.

Straightening his back and patting his hair, he took a moment to look at all of us individually before saying, “ _I actually_  heard that they're saying  _fun-sized_  now."  
   
"Fuckin’ knew it, I AM NOT AN M&M” I argued, offended by the fact that I may be compared to bite-sized chocolate in the near-by-future.  
   
But of course I was ignored because Gerard started his speech on how we should just stick with  _hobbit_.  
   
"Agreed." they all chorused, nodding.

I looked around at the 4 guys standing around my kitchen. These four guys who I had spent most of my life with, three of them being friends with the kid who liked horror movies before a healthy age. They would keep in touch with weirdo who was always at the hospital because of an odd illness. Then years would go before the group added a fourth friend with not much changing. I still had the outstanding resume of being the guy who went trick or treating when it was well past his age and continued to be a freak that never outgrew a comic book obsession.

  
"Oh my god, I missed you guys." I laughed, ignoring the following responses of:

“D’awwwww”

“Oh god, such you're a sap”

“Let’s watch a movie”

And an imitation of a retching sound


	2. Pete Mother Fucking Wentz

**Author's Note: Okay, this is short and crappy. I know.**  
 **BUT THERE IS GOOD NEWS**  
 **I am now writing FanFiction for school!?!?! so a new chapter every other week or so!?!?**  
 **If i don't upload, pester me on Twitter @LaughingCyanide**  
 **I'll be alternating my uploads between this fic and another on wattpad and mychemicalromancefanfiction.com. It's called "Band Geeks and Art Freaks", here's the link to one of the sites. http://www.mychemicalromancefanfiction.com/Story/10643/Band-Geeks-and-Art-Freaks/**

**....if i don't upload it actually affects my grade too.**  
 **What hole have i dug for myself?**  
 **See you all soon!**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Walking home with co-workers tends to be somewhat weird for an ordinary job. Yet then again  Pete and I  hardly look professional since we work for a record label. Pretty the much the only rule in the office is no ripped jeans but that doesn't endanger me wearing fingerless skeleton gloves in the office or Pete giving his hair break from a straightener.   
  
But at shows, I get to wear my ripped jeans and Pete will whip out the guy-liner. Plus, with the both of us having a crazy number of tattoos, it definitely makes up for our height advantage at shows. Hey, we may not be able to ride all roller coasters but we cant take anyone who tries and stops us. Being a talent agent is pretty amazing.   
  
"Hey, so there's  gonna  be a show later tonight, you in?" he asked as we got off the bus.   


Trying to walk with Pete is more of a challenge than one would think. The fact that he’s 2 inches taller than me isn’t as much of an issue as him focusing on not landing his foot on a crack for his mother’s sake. I’m sure Pete’s mom is a very nice woman, but there are a lot of cracks on Jersey sidewalks. So while Pete practically leaps every time he takes a step, I have to keep a faster walking pace because although I love my mother, jumping around near moving vehicles is not something I’d like to engage in.

  
"Eh, I'll pass." I answered. "I have some friends here from outta town so  imma  spend some time with them."   
  
I figured I could tell Pete about the guys, since I've only met him within the past few years.   
  
"Oh, sweet.  Well, if they  wanna  come then just bring them along. I'll just tell 'Trick to put you on the list." he winked.   
"Manipulating venue owners for your personal gain just makes your day, doesn't it?"   
  
"Is there any other way to use them?"   
  
" Ohmygod , Pete you don't use people."   
  
" Mmmm , that might explain some things," he mused.  "Noted.  Anyways, I need you to cover the show the day after though."   
  
"Ugh, fine, what time is it?"   
  
"It starts at 7 but they won't be playing until about 8 since some other bands are  gonna  be playing a few sets."   
  
"Fine, I'll do it." I agreed before stopping at our point to separate on the sidewalk and looking around. "You timed this entire conversation, didn't you?"   
  
Pete grinned, "If you said no, I was going to throw this flyer at you and run." He pulled a flyer out of his sweatshirt and showed me the paper with a sticky note attached saying "Thanks for taking this show, Frankie :O) "   
  
Looking down at the paper and reading more about the bands, I started the lecture saying "Didn't we just talk about using people Pete? I mean, seriously when does it  en -"   
  
"FRANK!" a voice shouted from a distance.   
  
I looked up to see Pete, but from a different perspective of across the street.   
  
"WHAT THE FUCK PETE?" I yelled.   
  
"PLEASE, IERO, THERE ARE CHILDREN."   
  
I whipped my head around, to see any kids, but my search came back negative.   
  
"LIAR!"   
  
"IT ECHOS.  YOU WOULD'VE SEEN THEM ANYWAYS, YOU'RE AT EYESIGHT."   
  
"YOU'RE ONLY 2 INCHES TALLER THAN ME, NOT THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT."   
  
"I'LL TAKE MY TROPHY, THANKYOUVERYMUCH."   
  
"WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?"   
  
"OH YEAH,  WERE  YOU LECTURING ME ABOUT MANIPULATING PEOPLE AGAIN?"   
  
"YOU'RE DOING IT NOW, HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW?"   
  
" NOT IMPORTANT, BUT F.Y.I TOOK THE  MENTAL  NOTE O FF  THE BUS BUT I PLANNED THIS AT WORK."

"PETE, I'M SORRY BUT I DON'T THINK YOU GETTING HIT BY THAT FALLING SHOE IS APART OF YOUR PLAN"   
  
Pete jumped to his right,  coincidently where a parking meter was, and looked up to see nothing.  Although he head was seemingly unscathed, his shoulder will most likely be forming a satisfactory bruise.

Pleased with my prank, I decided to head home, even if I was laughing like a mad man.

“OOOH YEAHHHH, REEEEALLY FUNNY FRANK!” Pete shouted to my back.


End file.
